


The First Time IV

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Episode Related, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-08
Updated: 2004-05-08
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12071349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian and Justin's POV, Gapfiller for episode #101 and #102.  FollowsThe First Time III.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Justin

The alarm, with its unfamiliar beeping, confuses my very sleepy brain. My eyes, too heavy to open, remain closed until I sense a figure move over me. Then they take in the bright light and figure of a man, blue sheets, a strange ceiling and for a second I think, ‘Where the hell am I?’ Then I realize…it’s him. I smell him. It’s Brian. I’m here. That actually happened. Holy fucking shit! Justin Taylor finally lost his virginity last night.

To wake from what you assumed was a wonderful dream, only to find out it was real…well, that’s the best fucking feeling in the world. I look at his gorgeous bedhead, his pouty lips, his closed eyes and I snuggle up next to him. I want to stay like this forever. I want to live in this bed forever. I don’t need any more than this.

I gently place a hand on his exposed shoulder. His perfect, smooth, muscular shoulder. I’m hesitant to do more, but I want it so badly. Last night was fast and furious and long and hard and to see him now, innocently drifting between sleep and wakefulness…he looks so innocent, so sweet.

I take the chance, laying my arm across his entire upper body. He rolls into me, sliding his arms around me. I sigh into his soft hair, hair that still miraculously smells like citrus and mint despite being soaked with sweat in the dark hours of the early morning.

Suddenly his eyes open and meet mine. A shy smile creeps across my lips. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. He’s so sexy. He’s more than I ever dreamed he’d be. He’s mine for this perfect moment.

I want to wake up next to him every morning until the day I die. Okay, I’m asking a bit much. But, I really had no fucking clue I’d meet the love of my life when I went out to lose my virginity on Liberty Avenue.

I thought to myself, “This will be seedy, maybe a little dirty, maybe with someone who’s only slightly attractive.” But, I was just so fucking ready to experience it. Get it over with. Get on with it. Be absolutely sure I was gay. Know that men were what I wanted. I knew sex was the way to do it. I didn’t count on Brian Kinney.

Now my fate as a homosexual is sealed. After last night I’ll never look at a man the same way again. I don’t know how I’m going to get through another day at school with all those preppy little jocks in Catholic schoolboy uniforms without mounting them in the middle of Shakespeare lectures, or in the cafeteria while waiting in line for meatloaf.

The problem is, Brian isn’t just a fuck. He isn’t just some guy I went home with to dump my virginity in his lap and leave. Brian’s the kind of guy you stay with. Brian’s the kind of guy you long for. Brian’s the kind of guy you love. Brian’s the kind of guy who breaks your heart.

His face flashes with strange emotion as he stares at me. I can tell he’s just as confused as I was. But his face doesn’t change to one of understanding nearly as quickly as mine did. He rolls away from me and I watch as sun filtering through the windows bathes his beautiful skin and lights up the green flecks in his brooding hazel eyes. Hazel eyes…I always thought I’d love to date a man with hazel eyes. There not one boring color, like brown or blue. There this amazing mix of green and gold and brown and a million other nuances of beautiful color. And the two of them, his eyes, they aren’t even the same. They’re a little different, one is a few shades darker. I noticed that last night. His face was so close to mine, his body pushing into me. All I wanted to do was stare into his eyes and wrap myself around his brain and that’s when I noticed…they’re different. His eyes are two different colors. What an amazing thing.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I’ve noticed he’s blunt.

“You said I could stay.” My eyebrows furrow as I softly reply.

“Right. You’re parents…they think you’re at a friends.” His tone is one of amusement. But, I’m relieved he remembers that he agreed to let me stay.

He leans up and stretches himself, moving into the next stage of waking. He places a hand over his eyes to shield them from the morning sun and assesses the damage we did to his loft last night. “Jesus Christ, what the hell happened?”

I laugh at how quickly he’s forgotten. Sex in the kitchen. Sex on the couch. Sex on a barstool. Sex on that crazy leather chair (now that was hot.) He juggled and flipped around and ranted about the state of the world and the role of homosexual men in it. I knew he was high, but I found it all very amusing.

“Don’t tell me. I was doing handstands.” I smile as he recalls the hours we spent exploring each space of his loft last night.

“And juggling...” I add sarcastically. “You’re not very good.”

He sighs, “Shit, why do I do these things? I’ll tell you why. It was that fucking pig Anita. She told me that was E. That wasn’t E - that was some shit they cooked up in a bathtub in Tijuana.”

Unable to stop myself, I ramble, “That’s why you should never take drugs that aren’t prescribed by a physician or recommended by a reliable pharmacist.” God, did I actually just say that to him? I don’t know why I talk when I’m nervous, but I do. And he makes me seriously nervous.

He chuckles, “What are you, a public service announcement?”

I kind of grimace at his comment and will myself to not speak anymore. Then he adds, “Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

“You can’t. Michael has the car.” Just stating a fact, that seems safe enough.

”Why’s he got it?”


	2. The First Time IV

“You were too high…” He cuts me off, surely not wanting to be reminded of last night’s bender. Which is too bad considering how great it was for me.

“I know what happened, I was there. I remember everything...Perfectly.” He emphasizes ‘perfectly’ and looks me up and down in a way that warms my gut and makes my dick twitch under his soft sheets. After last night I thought I’d never be able to get hard again. I didn’t think my dick could take much more, but it just kept going.

My face softens and I look at him with pleading eyes. I want to say, ‘Do you remember? Do you remember every second of it like I do? Was it as amazing as I think? Is sex always that good?’ But, I let the rational side of my brain decide that wouldn’t be such a good idea.

“What was your name again?” Oh god, he doesn’t remember my name. Yeah, I better just shut up now.

”Justin.” When I say it my heart breaks a little. It’s not like I thought he’d feel about me the way I did about him. But, there’s something there, something between us. I’m not crazy and I’m not making this up. You don't take someone along with you to the hospital on the Wednesday night of their first child's birth, let them name your first born, then bring them home, fuck them half a dozen times, and have it mean nothing!

“Right.” He nods with little interest. I think I might cry.

“Can I take a shower?” I have to get to school. I have to tell Daph what happened. I have to get the sex smell off of my skin before I sit through English Lit in an hour.

”Yeah, but hurry up. It’s through there.” He points towards the bathroom, which I used a few times last night. Clearly he doesn’t remember that.

 

Brian

Melanie’s voice booms out of my machine at a manic pitch. All I hear is “water", "broke”, and “hospital” before my head starts fucking spinning. Maybe it was that shitty E or all that sex and the resulting lack of sleep, but I think I might pass out. I fucking have a kid. A child! There is a life on earth that I fucking had a hand in creating.

“Fuck I have a baby.” I say it out loud to make it more real. To remind myself that this is my life and I’m no longer in dreamland. Then I hear him…the other child in my life. Fumbling around in my shower that’s too high tech for him. He yelps as he burns himself with the water. I have the water heater set to a much higher temperature than most could stand. I love the feeling of near-scalding water as it washes over my skin, making it pink and raw and new each day.

“Two babies.” I mutter as I think about the irony of Justin coming to the hospital with me to meet my child just hours before I took his virginity. The events of last night have to be some kind of fucking record. I shake my head in bemusement as I head for the bathroom. My mouth tastes like shit. I can only imagine what my breath smells like.

As I walk into the only enclosed area of my loft I note the steam quickly filling the room. Seems boy wonder here can handle the heat. On my way to brush my teeth the sight of his utterly gorgeous ass sidetracks me.

Fuck me, I think I’m in trouble.

I pause and watch as he turns under the stream of steaming hot water. It’s all I can do not to drool, and I am not a drooler. He has a seriously fine ass, a gift from the gods. I’d never let him know that it’s the best one I’ve seen in a long, long while. And the way he moves it, the way he uses it – it’s fucking poetic. Damn, that E has seriously fucked with my brain.

I can feel some of the tension ease from my shoulders as I sigh at the sight of him. My brain, flooding with rational thoughts – like how am I going to work today on two hours of sleep after the end of a marathon fuck session and some shitty drugs that have wreaked havoc on my body, – suddenly blanks. It processes nothing but his perfect pale skin and his tight, young body. Shit, I think I could actually get it up again for this kid.

I open the shower door and step in. He turns his head slightly to acknowledge my presence, but seems unaffected overall. This kid’s a quick study.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had a kid?” I say it in the most annoyed tone I can muster.

“You said you remembered everything.” He punctuates his words with an arrogance possessed only by a teenager who just lost their virginity. That feeling of power, that feeling of newness in the world, that feeling like you’ve been let in on the universe’s dirty little secret and now you can finally reign supreme. I remember that feeling; in a way I haven’t lost it.

“It all happened so fast. What’s his name again?” I know my own kid’s name okay. There are just things I say, things I do…I don’t know…it’s part of who I am, this detachment.

“Gus., I’m the one who decided,” he sounds happy, jolly, pleased with himself. I'm amused by it, but I fight against the smile that's trying to lift to corners of my mouth. I busy myself soaping his back, amazed at the tightness of his skin. I think I need a skin transplant. I wonder what it would cost to get a 16-year-old’s skin grafted on to mine? Wait, is he 16 or am I just imagining that? Well, whatever…he’s young as all hell.

Justin

“Did you actually fuck her?” I just want the logistics of this childbearing thing? I mean, I met Lindsay, she’s really pretty…but she’s a chick. I’ve thought about trying it with a girl, but after last night…well, fuck that! I don’t think Brian could get it up for a girl, but maybe he could. Maybe he’s versatile.

“Who?” Who the fuck does he think I’m referring to?


	3. The First Time IV

“Lindsay.” I want to add a ‘duh’ in there, but I’m working on appearing mature around Brian. I wonder how old he is? This place is really nice, so he must be pretty well established in his field. He could be like 10 years older than me. Woah.

“You’re awfully rude.” He says the words teasingly. I know he only half-means them. Shit, after how rude he’s been to me in last 24 hours I feel like a saint next to him.

“Well did you?” I press the issue, if he wants to be catty so can I. Really, I just want him to keep gliding his soft hands over my back until the end of time, even if it’s driving me crazy.

“I jerked off in a cup and they squirted it up her.” He’s matter-of-fact though his voice drips with condescension, like next he might explain to me how babies are made.

“Gross,” I let the word hang on the air so he knows I’m truly disgusted, even though I’m not. “She must have really wanted a kid.”

“Most women do.”

“Even lesbians?” This whole gay culture thing is new to me, guess I should learn this stuff.

“Lesbians are women, sort of.” Well, duh.

“My mom says sometimes she wished she never had me.” I’m sorry I said that, fuck. He’s probably going to feel sorry for me now. It’s true, my mom has said that, but I don’t want a pity parade. I have it pretty good. I can’t complain about my life at home.

“That’s probably because she’s stuck with this annoying brat for the rest of her life.” I want to cringe, he probably actually feels that way.

I turn to face him, wanting to remind him of the thousand and one ways he fucked this annoying brat last night. Somehow I don’t think he found me too annoying when he was busy moaning my name – the very same name he pretended to forget this morning. I’m so on to him.

“So, you gonna raise him?” I’m not sure I want to date a guy with a kid, but I think for Brian I’d make the exception.

He lets out this little wicked laugh, “Me? No way. The munchers are. But, I’ll be around to provide the masculine influence so important in every young boy’s life.” I can tell he’s rehearsed that line in his head a million times. It’s going to be his standard response to the inevitable “YOU have a child?”

“I’ll bet Melanie could do it better than you.” Mmm, I love getting under his skin, literally and figuratively. His hands, now soaping my chest and stomach, are moving dangerously close to my crotch. Luckily my dick is tired, so it’s being good. But, I know his fingers are about three inches from giving me a major hard-on.

“Don’t get smart of or I’ll have to spank you.” Good, this conversation’s finally headed where I want it.

“Really?” My eyes light up and I smile that smile, the one that wins me seconds on dessert, extensions on school papers and free game rentals from the guy at Blockbuster. It takes me everywhere I want to be. I look down at his fast-growing erection as it springs to life between our slick stomachs. Like a third party in the shower, it is now the center of attention. My dick responds in kind as I raise my eyes to meet Brian’s, my mouth agape at the realization we’re both ready to fuck again after last night’s award-winning performance.

He leans in to kiss me. See, no one can resist that smile. He sucks my lips into his mouth and expertly swirls his tongue around mine. It goes straight to my gut and makes me shaky on my feet. A kiss, just a fucking kiss, is making me feel this way. He drives me in-fucking-sane. Everyone needs a Brian Kinney.

“You up for one more?” His eyes have glazed over a little bit, the lust settling in like a veil of dew on grass at dawn. I don’t think he’d take no for an answer right now, but that won’t be an issue. I smile and let him know I’m ready for anything. I’ll take him any way I can.

 

Brian

I cannot fucking believe my dick just responded like that, to his fucking smile. The kid flashes his perfect teeth and my cock thinks it's playtime. I really don’t have time for this, but I never, and I mean never, pass up a good fuck. Who am I kidding? I never pass up a fuck, period.

I grab his shoulder and fling him around. Face to the glass and my hand on his ass, his back arches at my touch. I press my body against him, no room for air in the space between. I grab a condom from my in-shower stash (they’re in every empty pocket of my loft) and slide it on faster than he can utter his first moan. I enter him swiftly, with no preparation. I figure after last night he’ll still be wide open. To my surprise, he’s tight as hell all over again. Kids. Must be nice to spring back to your original state that quickly. He’ll find out in time that is a luxury you lose with youth.

He must be used to the size of me now, he doesn’t wince like he did so many times last night. God, so many times last night…

I get this weird feeling just thinking about all of things we did, all of the places we did them in. It isn’t like he’s special. It isn’t like he’s different. It’s just that…well. Fuck, I don’t know. I need to concentrate more on my dick and less on my feelings.

I find our rhythm quickly. It’s like I know him now. I know how our bodies move together. I guess there is something to be said for letting repeat performers into bed. Getting to explore sex on another level, figuring out the other person…it’s all fine and good, it just isn’t for me, never was.

He’s on his tiptoes, his body rising as I thrust into him over and over. His hands are up on the glass, creating mysterious patterns on its steam-coated surface. The soap I spread over our bodies is sliding down and finding its way toward the drain as the water washes us clean.


	4. The First Time IV

I reach around in front of him and grab his throbbing cock in my right hand. I hold it for a moment before I give it a little squeeze and start to stroke. He jerks as my finger and thumb find the head and circle it, dispersing that first beautiful drop of pre-come. He’s leaking all over the place now. He won’t be long. Like any teenager, he comes at the drop of a hat. There’s something sexy about that, when you’re in the mood for a quick fuck.

He got better last night as he learned control. He’s a fast learner. He’d watch me so closely, repeating my every move. If I had the time I could mold the kid, teach him everything I know. There isn’t any way to pass on the entire bible of great sex in one six hour-jaunt, but if I had more time.... No matter, I don’t. This is it. Three more minutes and we come, ten more minutes and we’re out of here, fifteen more minutes and he’s at school and I’m at work and it’s all over.

 

Justin

Oh…my…God…he’s….fuck…ing…me….again. My body arches back, pressing my belly and my aching cock into the steam-covered glass in front of me. I look through the shower and can almost see us in the mirror above the sink. It’s this weird outline of us, like an artistic impression of our bodies. A little dark, a little distorted, but still very much there. I can’t take my eyes off the moving figures. His head above mine, his hands on my body, my face as I let him inside. It’s so fucking hot to watch. I will away the steam, wanting it off of the glass and off of the mirror so I can see us clearly, bring this carnal act into focus.

He picks up the pace and I moan. He pushes a little deeper and I groan. Then he grabs my cock and I practically scream. Everything he does feels so amazing. In those few precious hours of sleep my body had nearly forgotten the true heights of this pleasure. I’m so fucking elated that we’re doing it again this morning. I think reliving it every five minutes all damn day will be a lot easier now.

His fingers pinch the head of my cock, lightly. It makes me crazy. I thrash my head to the side and try to find his lips. I want to kiss him. I want to look in the mirror. I want to come. I feel so conflicted.

He strokes me with his hand on the outside, with his dick on the inside. His tongue glides over my neck and he whispers private things into the back of my neck. I can barely hear him with the water running. These are the first things he’s said to me while sober, I want more than anything to know what they are.

Does he really love me? Does he really think I’m beautiful? Am I really the best fuck he’s ever had? Concentrating on his words, with his dick up my ass, is nearly impossible. I hear “please” and “now” and “come” and “good” and “hard” and “more.” I listen for “love” and “stay” and “me” and “you”, but I get none of that.

I hit the glass again as his thrusts grow deeper and harder and more urgent. I want to come, but I want to stay with him. I know the second I jump over that cliff into sweet oblivion it will be time for us to go. I’ll get dressed, he’ll get dressed, we’ll drive away from this place, this magical place, where I might never be again. Fuck, I can’t think about that right now. I have to come back here. I have to do this again.

Holy…shit…fuck…feels so, so good. No thinking, just feeling. I’ll worry about my cock now and our future later.

The pounding in my body sounds like gongs slamming in my ears. I could blackout from how I feel right now. With a few final tugs on my dick and a few final thrusts deep inside I let go. I practically collapse in front of him. My body, out of my control, falls limp in his hands as my come covers the glass in front of me.

I take one last look into that steamed-up mirror just in time to see his face as he shoots. His mouth drops open an inch, his head rears back under the running water. It cascades down his face and fills his mouth, smothering the moans I can feel, more than hear. Two bucks of the hips and he’s done. He holds me up a moment longer and then leans over my body, kissing my shoulder, before pulling out of me. The simple gesture is so sweet, so many little things he does…probably doesn’t even think about…tell me he’s more than the bad-ass he tries to be. I've already scratched the surface of Brian Kinney and my excavation is just getting started.


End file.
